


That Notable Librarian

by LizzieMack



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Arthur Miller - Freeform, Beowulf - Freeform, Gen, Jason and Babs were born for this, Kinda Crack, Library, Literary References & Allusions, Literature, Magic-Users, Pastiche, Poor Alfred, References to Shakespeare, S.E. Hinton - Freeform, Sophocles - Freeform, The Bible - Freeform, Victor Hugo - Freeform, Working at a library can do strange things to you if you aren't careful, batfam, dewey decimal system, emily dickinson - Freeform, fun with style, greek tragedy - Freeform, possible blasphemy, what the fuck is iambic pentameter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27526855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzieMack/pseuds/LizzieMack
Summary: After a magical attack on Gotham's Public library, each member of the bat fam gets psychically dragged into several different books. Tim, who was pulled into an encyclopedia, is the first to snap out of it, and with Alfred's help, he must find a way to get the others back and stop this new villain before it's too late.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Everyone, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 36
Kudos: 150





	1. 030 Encyclopedias and Dictionaries

**DRAKE, Timothy**  
Timothy "Tim" Drake ( _b_. 2000) is the chief executive officer of Drake Industries and the assistant CEO of Wayne Enterprises. According to _The New York Times,_ he is "corporate America's most promising up-and-comer". He was named to _Fortune_ 's "20 under 20" list three years in a row from 2017-2019. He was active under the alias 'Robin' from 2013 to 2016 and as 'Red Robin' from 2016 onwards. In November of 2020, he responded to an all hands on deck call from his adoptive father, billionaire Bruce Wayne.  
**WAYNE, Damian Al Ghul**  
Damian Al Ghul Wayne ( _b_. 2006 _d_. 2019 _r_. 2020) Active vigilante operating as 'Robin' since 2016. Youngest son of Gotham Socialite Bruce Wayne. Found unconscious after engaging with a previously unknown villain in the downtown branch of Gotham City Public Library. Richard "Dick" Grayson, his eldest brother, and Stephanie Brown, a family friend, were found nearby.  
**TODD, Jason**  
Jason Todd ( _b_. 1997 _d_. 2013 _r_. ?), was active as Robin from 2009 to 2013. He returned to Gotham in 2016 using the alias 'Red Hood'. Little is known about his activity from 2013 to 2016. Found trapped beneath a shelf and unresponsive, beside his father, American Business Magnate, Bruce Wayne  
**CAIN, Cassandra**  
Cassandra "Cass" Cain ( _b_. 1997) operated as Batgirl from 2014 to 2016. Now using the moniker 'Orphan', the only daughter of Wayne Enterprises CEO, Bruce Wayne was found halfway between Wayne and Todd, and Grayson, Brown, and Al Ghul Wayne.  
**THOMAS, Duke**  
Duke Thomas ( _b_. 2001), the most recent adoptive son of business tycoon Bruce Wayne, operates as the vigilante 'Signal'. He was still responsive when Drake arrived on the scene but faded fast.  
**GORDON, Barbara**  
First and current Batgirl Barbara "Babs" Gordon ( _b_. 1992) was still fighting off the unknown villain in combat when Drake reached them. Gordon went down first. Drake was forced backwards towards the reference section when he felt the tug of magic pulling at him. His knees folded and his eyes felt heavy.  
**DRAKE, Timothy**  
**Timothy**

"Timothy?" said a voice in his ear.

"Hn..."

"Master Timothy?"

"Pennyworth, Alfred, born 1954, butler to celebrity businessman Bruce Wayne and suspected former MI6 agent?"

"...yes? Are you quite alright?"

"Sorry... I think- I think that whatever that guy got me with, it's still wearing off."

"Gather yourself my boy and then try and rouse the others? I've had no communication from any of you for a good ten minutes."

Tim pulled himself up carefully, quietly narrating his actions for Alfred. "I'm not hurt as far as I can tell. I don't see any sign of the perp, but I'm not taking any chances... Uh... I see Batgirl, how should I proceed?"

"What is her status?"

"Not sure. I'll check for a pulse and start medical intervention if necessary?"

"A sound plan."

"Alright. Standby." Tim pressed two fingers to the side of her neck and felt a familiar sensation tugging at him. "Oh shit," he managed before everything went black.


	2. 220.52 English Translations of The Bible

1And in those days the BATMAN appeared to Barbara in a dream by night and said: "Ask what I shall give thee".

2And Barbara said "Thou hast shewed unto thy servant James Gordon, my father, great mercy, and thou hast kept for him this great kindness, that thou hast made his child king over the city that thou hast chosen, though I am but young; I know not how to serve thy people. 3Give therefore unto me an understanding heart that I may discern between good and evil: for who is able to judge so great a city such as Gotham?"

4And this speech pleased the BATMAN that Barbara had asked such a thing.5"Behold, I have done according to thy word: Lo, I have given thee a wise and understanding heart and if thou wilt walk in my ways as thy father Gordon did walk I will also give thee that what thou hast not asked, both riches and honor: so that there shall not be any among the kings like unto thee.

6And Barbara awoke; and made a feast unto all her servants. 7Then came there a woman and a boy holding a small child unto the king and stood before her. 8And the woman said "O my king, this boy arose at midnight and took my son from me while I slept, and laid his own dead child in my arms."

9And then spake the boy "No, the living is my son that I myself bore!"

10and the woman thus spake "Nay, the dead is thy son and the living-"

11But the boy began speaking before the woman had finished. "Wait... I do not understand... I can't bear a child?"

12The king and the woman said nothing. The boy looked at the child in his arms. "I really feel as though he's mine, but... I can't have had a kid? At least not like _that_?"

13And the king said "Then give this woman the child if she is the mother thereof."

14The boy frowned but did as she had asked, and the woman left with the babe.

15And the king said unto the boy, "Now, I would see thy face; remove thy mask."

16Again the boy did as she had asked, though he seemed reluctant to uncover himself. 17And Barbara said, "Thine eyes... I know them well, though I know not why."

"Babs, you don't recognize me?"

The king frowned. "Who _art_ thou? I know thee not yet I feel as though thou wert my brother. How can such a thing be?

"Yeah, it took me a second to recognize you too, but... it's like... I must have done this before?"

“I need. I need to think. I… I can’t… I don’t understand… Tell me the truth… am I… is this… real? Am I king? Is Batman real? Is any of this real?”

“I have no idea Babs, I think it’s a dream? It feels like a dream…It feels like this has all happened before… I can’t explain it, but I think if we just remember who we are, who we’re supposed to be, we can get out.”

“I may not be Gotham's king, but I do serve her people, but... they don’t know me, do they?” she said touching her own mask. “I’m sure that’s right… I- I think that I have to be someone other than myself, I have to be Batgirl...”

Suddenly the warm glow of the torches was replaced with harsh fluorescent overhead lighting, and Tim was slumped over her chest. Almost immediately he muttered an apology and pulled himself off of her. Before she could say anything in response Alfred’s voice erupted over their communicators. “If any of you can hear me, you have thirty seconds until I contact Superman for an extraction, I repeat, If any-”

“Agent A!”

“Master Timothy! You went silent and I feared the worst.”

“Sorry, I kinda blacked out there for a second… But at least Batgirl’s back online?”

"Very well sir, keep me updated as the situation changes."

"Will do. RR out."

Babs rubbed her eyes. "What is this?" She pulled herself into a sitting position sat up. “I thought- I thought we’d gone somewhere else. There was a banquet hall... and a temple...”

"I saw it too." said Tim frowning. "But it wasn't real. I'm starting to think that our perp is a meta or a magic-user. When he downed me, I blanked out. Everything was facts and dates... I wouldn't have been able to get out of it if it wasn't for Agent A." He took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. "When I went to check your pulse... The second I touched you I lost everything again. Couldn't remember who I was or anything... All I could think was that someone was trying to steal my kid..."

Babs nodded. "Okay, from here on out we proceed with extreme caution. Red, I need you on triage. Coordinate with A to evac the injured. I'll do a perimeter check and then help you finish up if everything's secure. Do not hesitate to call for backup if you need it."

"Understood. See you in a bit."


	3. 320.071 Political Science Education

Tim shook off any lingering confusion and headed purposefully to where he'd seen Duke go down. His newest brother was curled on his side, still breathing with no obvious signs of injury. Tim called out to him but got no response, so he leaned down to shake his shoulder. For the third time that night, Tim felt a tugging sensation behind his navel. 

# Chapter 5: the US Constitution

#### The Road to the Constitution

All thirteen states had to ratify the new constitution for it to take effect. At the time of the **Second Constitutional Convention** there were two political parties: the **Federalists** who were in favor of the new constitution, and the **Anti-Federalists** who were worried it would infringe on the rights of the citizens. To assuage the Anti-Federalist's worries the Federalists added ten amendments known as the **Bill of Rights**. _See below._

### The Bill of Rights  
  
---  
1\. Congress shall make no law respecting the... the... Wait. Hold up.  
2\. I cannot believe this is happening again.  
3\. I'm in an infographic for Pete's sake.  
4\. Duke buddy, you gotta snap out of it.  
5\. I'm having war flashbacks to AP Government  
6\. I was like this close to flunking.  
7\. Duuuuuuke.  
8\. I'm pretty sure this counts as cruel and unusual punishment...  
9\. That's a violation of MY rights  
10\. Seriously man, I'm gonna need you to wake up  
  
### 

#### AP Government Wasn't that Bad

**Duke Thomas** took it last year in the spring. He got an A and now he understands all the politics stuff in **Hamilton** , plus he got college credit. Who doesn't have to take **freshman poli sci**? This guy, that's who.

#### Duuuke

That is so not the point. Besides, that was the semester that I dropped out to go find **Bruce** so like... It doesn't count, ok? _For more reasons Tim Drake didn't actually fail see Appendix A_. ANYways, I need you to focus, man. We were fighting a new meta, remember? He knocked us all out like it was nothing?

####  Oh Shit

All he had to do was touch me... Damn. I... I'm not sure what happened after that? Tim? what's going on?

"Signal?" said Tim groggily pulling himself to a sitting position.

"Ughh. What the hell was that?"

"I'm not sure, but I have a theory," said Tim. "Every time I touch someone that's been downed by our perp I get dragged into whatever illusion they're stuck in until they come to. It's happened twice now..."

"So we just have to get everyone up without touching them?"

Tim nodded. "Sounds like a plan."


	4. 811.4 Later 19th Century American Poetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason enters the chat.

Do two Wrongs make a Right?  
He says without a care—  
If it mattered I might respond  
Life has been and will never be Fair—

Close your eyes to the Facts  
Ignore Reality—  
Old Man I’ll See it for You  
Nothing gets Past me—

_"Hood?"_

He let Me out of Arkham  
Timmy’s a real Swell guy—  
Real sorry that I stabbed Him  
And really I don’t know Why  
He’s cool with me—Honestly  
There’s no one Else—I’d Rather be Replaced by

_"Hood!"_

What is it—I replied.  
He didn't seem to Hear me  
Why do I want to Rhyme?  
What the Fuck—

Tim had to keep himself from cheering when Jason groaned and tried to sit up. "Okay Hood. We need you to help us get this shelf off of you, but you have to be careful not to touch Batman. Can you do that for me?"

"Okay," Jason said, his voice strained.

"On three... one... two... three..." Duke and Tim lifted the shelf enough for Jason to get his legs under him, and then together they got it standing upright again. As soon as it was done Jason started stretching out his shoulders. "So what's the deal with not touching B?"

"If you touch someone while they're down you get pulled into their delusion," said Duke.

Jason tilted his head to the side. "Their what now?"

"When I touched Batgirl," said Tim, "I got pulled into a throne room and everybody was wearing robes, and when I touched Signal I got pulled into a textbook? I don't know it was weird."

Duke nodded. "Anyways, since Agent A was able to wake RR just using the comms we figured we try just shouting at you and Batman until one of you woke up, especially considering that shelf was really fucking heavy."

"No kidding," said Jason. "So now we just gotta yell at B?"

"We tried that," Duke protested. "Me and RR were sat here for a good ten minutes trying to get either of you to respond."

Tim sighed. "Honestly it would have been more efficient just to touch you and get it over with."

Jason paused for a second and then bent down to grab one of the books that had fallen off the shelf. Before Tim could ask him what he was doing, he lobbed it at a soft spot in Batman's armour. Bruce grunted but didn't stir. Jason went back for a second book and Tim put his foot down. "Dude, what the hell?"

"What? We have to wake him up somehow."

"He literally just had a shelf dropped on him, excuse me if I don't want you throwing projectiles."

"The shelf got dropped on me too, asshole."

"And I was very worried for your safety."

Duke raised his hand. "Uhh.. guys?"

"What?" they said together.

"I think, either we find a bucket of water to dump over his head, or we're gonna have to touch him."

Tim sighed. "I veto the water... I guess, I'll touch him if you two keep watch?"

"Nuh-uh, you're not going in alone," said Jason.

"Hood, I've done this twice already, I can handle it," said Tim, but Jason had already put his hand on Batman's shoulder. Tim rolled his eyes so hard that they felt like they were being sucked into the back of his head and followed suit.

"This family..." said Duke, shaking his head.


	5. 812.54 Later 20th Century American Drama

# ACT III

_DRAKE enters, the trial is already in progress. JASON is giving testimony in his own defense, WAYNE is questioning him, clenching a gavel tightly in his fist._

**JASON:** I can't be a witch, I don't even know what a witch is!

**WAYNE:** Then how do you know that you _aren't_ a witch?

**JASON:** ...I fear the Lord, sir.

**WAYNE:** You were seen dancing naked in the woods.

**JASON:** 'Twas a godfearing dance.

**WAYNE:** You stand before me callously lying, do you not understand the gravity of the situation?

**DRAKE:** Bruce, you can't-

**WAYNE:** Mr. Drake, I bid you be silent lest I hold you in contempt of court. _(to JASON)_ Now, child, you know that God condemns all liars, so I give you one last chance to speak the truth. Have you compacted with the devil?

**JASON:** Compacted? What even-

**WAYNE:** Have you pledged yourself to Lucifer?

**JASON:** _(turning to DRAKE)_ What the actual hell?

**DRAKE:** _(to JASON)_ Let me handle this. _(to WAYNE)_ Do you even have any evidence?

**WAYNE:** The whole town has heard reports of milk curdling in his presence and children take ill when he passes by.

**JASON:** None of that has anything to do with me or fucking satan!

**WAYNE:** Fornicating with satan? It has confessed, it is a whore! God save us all.

**JASON:** God is DEAD.

**DRAKE:** _(whispering)_ Jason, you're not helping.

**JASON:** _(whispering but loudly)_ I'm open to suggestions!

**DRAKE:** If Jason is a witch-

**JASON:** HEY.

**DRAKE:** _(whispering furiously)_ Shut up so I can save your ass. _(to WAYNE)_ If Jason's a witch, what are you planning to do about it?

**WAYNE:** The penalty for witchcraft is hanging.

**DRAKE:** And if you hang Jason he'll be?

**WAYNE:** ...Dead.

**DRAKE:** Right. He'll be dead. And is that what we want?

**WAYNE:** ...No.

**DRAKE:** So is Jason a witch?

**WAYNE** That's- It's the law Tim. I can't change the law.

**DRAKE:** Oh, is it really? What statute?

**WAYNE:** I- _(he sputters for words)_

**JASON:** C'mon B, you couldn't hang me, even if it _was_ the law.

_WAYNE held his head in his hands. JASON fiddled with his dress, as though he had just noticed it._

"I don't want you to die," said Bruce morosely.

Jason smiled. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not a witch then, ain't it?"

Bruce groaned something about 'ain't' not being a word and realized that he was now on his back, with a son on either side of him, looking up at the vaulted ceiling of Gotham city's public library. As soon as the three of them began to stir Duke was at their side to help them up. "You guys okay?"

Tim nodded. "Deeply weirded out, but physically okay."

Bruce swallowed. "Hold on, what exactly is going on?"

"We're not sure," said Tim. "We've got a new magic-user with the ability to send you into really trippy hallucinations whenever he touches you."

Jason crossed his arms. "The thing is... I don't think it's random." He looked at Bruce. "Just now, that was the Salem witch trials, right? And look, just going off where we're at in the library, the Crucible should be on one of these shelves, maybe even the one that fell on us. It's just a hunch, but like, I think his powers are based on whatever books happen to be around."

Tim blinked trying to process the new information. "But what does that change for us, I mean practically."

"I guess we either corner him somewhere where there's no books, or we stick to projectile weapons?" said Jason.

Duke spoke up. "While you guys were out, Batgirl commed. She's got a lead on where the perp took off to and she wants back up to go after him."

"Then we need to split up," said Bruce. "One of you goes to help those who are still downed, and the rest of us will join Batgirl."

"RR's got the most experience pulling people out of books but he knows nothing about literature," said Jason.

"So go with him," said Bruce. "And when the two of you are done, we'll regroup." and with that, he followed Duke to meet up with Babs.

"Jokes on them, they're sending two high school dropouts to do the brain work," said Tim.

"...Fuck that noise, we're the best high school dropouts they got, and they know it."

Tim laughed despite himself and followed Jason deeper into the shelves.


	6. 813.54 Later 20th Century American Fiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cass!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cass! And a fight scene!

“Hey Grease,” said an overly friendly voice. I looked up to see a whole group of Socs coming at me out of the darkness. I backed up, trying to get away, but it didn’t matter. There were too many of ‘em, even for someone like me.

I’ve busted up pretty much every Soc in town, so I guess it makes sense that they all have it out for me. But the way they’re going about it now, cornering me all alone like this is underhanded. They pinned me down with no room to struggle and one of ‘em pulled out a switchblade and I felt like this was really it, that the Socs were taking it farther than we ever had before. There’s a world of difference between fighting with fists and fighting with weapons. If you’re just throwing punches you’re working something out between the two of you, but if you bring a weapon into it, then you’re actually trying to hurt somebody.

“We’re gonna do you a favor, Greaser, we’re gonna cut all that long greasy hair off.” 

I stopped struggling at that so that the bastard didn’t scalp me but it burned me up inside. These Socs, they got their nice cars, and their rings, and their money, but all us Greasers have to show off is our hair. And soon I wouldn’t even have that.

Out of nowhere, someone was shouting my name and I looked up in surprise. It was Tim Drake, the only Soc I could halfway stand. We went to school together and talked about poetry and sunsets and all that shit in English class, and in the light of day it was easier to think of him as a person than it was to think of him as Soc. I’d never seen him at a rumble before and it was almost easy to forget where the lines were drawn, ‘cept you can never forget a thing like that in this town. Running behind Tim looking just as panicked was Jason Todd, another greaser; Me and him ran with the same crew, and even if we didn’t always get along we always had each other’s back in a pinch.

The two of them leapt into action, Jason providing cover for Tim to help me up. Once I was back on my feet, I expected Tim to turn tail and run. He’d already risked a lot in helping us greasers and when it became clear that he was gonna stay and fight for our side I was genuinely surprised. The other Socs were too, from what I could tell; They went after him the hardest, calling him a Judas and a traitor and all sorts of nasty things.

I jumped in, to cover Tim's back. He moved alongside me like we’d been fighting together for years, but I didn’t have time to question it. We were outnumbered pretty bad and it would take every scrap of effort and ingenuity we had to make it out of this with our pride intact.

For a while we held our own, Jason was a real bruiser, he could take a few hits and still keep fighting. Me and Tim were made of slighter stuff. It meant that we were faster for sure, but one lucky right hook could knock us out of the fight. We kept on our toes, bobbing and weaving. All of our concentration was taken up in acting and reacting, trying to find a window to get in a hit without getting hit ourselves.

People always say that I look like I'm dancing when I'm in the middle of a rumble like each move is carefully choreographed. In the moment it didn't feel like that, I didn't have to think about what I was doing, I just did it. One guy, he twisted, gearing up to sock me in the jaw. In response I went low, slamming him in the gut. He staggered back but I was already moving on to deal with the Soc who was trying to wipe Tim's legs out from under him. As I moved to shove him aside a shot went off and everyone froze.

Jason had fired off a warning shot. "Party's over boys, scram." The threat was implicit even though his tone was chipper

There was a beat and then all the socs except for Tim took off. We usually didn't mess around with guns, and I found myself wondering where Jason had gotten it, and if he'd used it before. I had a gut feeling that he had.

As soon as it was just us three in the alley Jason slumped against the wall. He was holding his side like it was hurting him. "Fuck... That went well."

Tim laughed under his breath. "Could've been worse."

"We shouldn't stay here," I said.

Jason shook his head. "Ain't got no other place to go. 'Sides not like any of this is real anyways." He grimaced. "Fuck. I’m gonna need to sit down. Cass, help me out?"

I helped him to the ground and then I pulled his jacket aside, revealing a nasty gut wound. Tim inhaled sharply.

"S'okay, all we gotta do is get outta this book before I bleed out," said Jason. He wasn’t making any sense.

I turned to Tim "He needs a doctor. You got a car?"

He shook his head. "Just keep pressure on the wound I need to think."

I did as he said. Jason grinned weakly. "I feel all special being the center of attention. Maybe I should recite poetry."

"Please don't," said Tim. "Cass I need you to-"

Before he could finish speaking Jason cut him off. "I'm feeling like it's a Robert Frost kinda moment, he's got nice nature imagery y'know."

"Jason now is not the time."

"Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold-"

"Oh my god. Jason."

“Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf; So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day... Nothing gold can stay.”

I tilted my head to the side. “What does it mean?”

Jason’s breathing was getting slower, more labored, but he didn’t hesitate to answer me. “That nothing can stay innocent, like, sooner or later we all lose that thing inside that keeps us good, but you know what, I say fuck that. No reason you can’t stay gold. You hear me? You gotta stay gold, Cassandra Cain.” He was almost desperate in that moment. 

I squeezed his hand. “Okay. I’ll try.”

“That’s all you can do,” he said, his eyes going dull. “You’re probably already the best of all of us.” He was fading fast right before my eyes and something in me felt sick.

“I feel like this has all happened before, only I wasn’t there,” I said.

Tim nodded. “You’re right, so focus on that.”

“But I don’t understand,” I rubbed my temples, unsure. 

“Lean into it,” said Tim. “Why am I wearing sensible pumps and an A-line skirt? Why do you look like you’re cosplaying Danny Zuko? You have to recognize that something’s off here.”

“I- I don’t know.”

“Jesus Cass, I need you to try. Who are you?”

“I’m Cass. I… You’re my brother?”

“Yes.”

“And he is too. And- and I have to save him. I have to bring him home.”

“Good,” said Tim. 

Cass frowned. It didn’t feel like they were outside anymore, and instead of asphalt, they were sitting on carpet. “The library? We’re still at the library.”

“Yup,” said Jason popping the P. Tim checked him over, but the stab wound had disappeared. He bit his lip. “Well, I guess it’s nice to know that injuries sustained while we’re in the books don’t carry over to the real world. Any clue what book that was?”

Jason shrugged and Cass raised her eyebrows. “Book?”

“Listen. We’ll explain on the way,” said Tim as he led the group deeper into the shelves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me tell you, changing from third person to first person, and back felt so wrong. Hope it made sense in context?


	7. 829.3 Beowulf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian. In Beowulf. What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hwæt's up folks, I had a lot of fun with this one.

Behold! We have heard tales  
Of Bruce Wayne the Batman  
A son of Gotham guardian of men  
master of battle destroyer of terror  
his son was born to the Demon's Daughter  
unknown to him the child grew  
A cradle trained killer raised to rule  
Damian Al Ghul destined for greatness  
May his name be known.

The son of the bat in his eleventh summer  
strong in the sword he set sail  
to seek glory in his father's keeping  
at his family's hall, Damian's heart wept  
to see a vile serpent welcomed at his father's hearth  
stealing treasure and war glory taking titles that were not his  
This cunning air flier well studied in deceit  
must be cast out brought to grief  
hated and humiliated stripped of his position  
Damian son of Bruce ready war-fighter  
sought the wyrm out bringing with him his kinsman  
in strong voice, he spoke 'Drake, come forth  
so I may topple your head from the seat of your neck'

' Actually, could you not?' spoke the fire-breather  
unfooled by this trickery Damian swung his sword  
intent to spill lifeblood but the beast fled  
To the hall of the sun where no man can reach  
saying as he flew 'I thought we were over this?'  
Damian boarded his ship to follow the serpent from below  
for it could not fly forever but his kinsman was loathe to follow  
'Jesus christ kid... You really sure about this?  
He's a firebreathing dragon, that's a wooden boat...  
it's not exactly a formula for success...'

This kinsman and hearth-companion renowned for his war strengh  
fortunate in Woden's favor returned from the hall of the slain  
restless and slaughter eager he feared the serpent's flame?  
Confusion filled Damian's thoughts.

"You are a brave and mighty warrior-"

"Uh... Thanks?"

"Where is your battle spirit? To the sea with you! Give chase! Take the oars, and I will keep watch so that the hellish fiend does not escape us!"

The Wodan favored man did as Damian commanded but he was not pleased. "For christsake... why we gotta chase Timmy in a rowboat anyways? Couldn't you dream up something with a little more horsepower?"

"Tt. Focus on rowing."

"Heh... I've never... I've never done _this_ before. Have you?"

For a moment the only the wind and the waves and the slap of the oars could be heard. "...I must have. I have ridden the waves since childhood, my grandfather... he commands a great fleet... I- I have sailed before."

"Hm... really?" Jason's voice was breathy with effort. "Tell me about one specific memory you have. Tell me what it felt like, who were you with, what could you see, hear, smell, I want specifics."

"I was- I-" Damian closed his eyes to think. But no. As hard as he tried he could not call up any of the memories he was sure he had. No longships, no rowboats, no merchant's vessels. But perhaps, he could think of one...

"Father has a yacht!" he said. The Red Hood chuckled so softly that his helmet barely picked it up and Damian realized that he shouldn't have been able to hear him over the crashing waves. "Where are we?"

"Library," said Cass with a yawn. "You remember?"

Damian frowned. Jason helped him back to his feet and then poked at Tim with the toe of his boot. "Wake up sleeping beauty."

Tim groaned. "Even when I'm a dragon you try to kill me. I must just have one of those faces..."

Damian mumbled something apologetic, and then looked at Tim questioningly. "You know that I would never- I would no longer try to harm you. Had I not been... immersed... in this hallucination I wouldn't have- I mean, I value you. Alive."

Tim patted him on the shoulder. "We're good. Just keep the sword away from my neck and we're good."

Damian nodded seriously.

"So now that you guys are good..." Jason trailed off gesturing to where Dick and Steph were still lying prone on the ratty carpeting.

"Nightwing!" shouted Damian. Before he could run to his mentor's aid Jason caught him by the cape. "Whoa. Slow your roll little man. You, are going to stay here with Orphan so you can get debriefed on all the shit that went down while you were running round pretending to be a Viking, and me and RR are gonna handle things, capisce?"

Damian bristled but allowed Cass to pull him to her side. Tim looked him up and down. "You'll listen to Orphan?"

"Tt. Of course. Stop wasting time, you must revive the others."

"BG first?" asked Jason.

Tim nodded. "Might as well. Fingers crossed, no one will try to stab us this time."

"That's always the hope."


	8. 843.7 Early 19th Century French Fiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steph!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor Hugo's style has been the most frustrating to emulate so far. He just is so descriptive, and he goes off on so many tangents. I hope I did him justice.
> 
> TW-  
> Period accurate language is used to describe sex workers (it happens like three times

Three hundred and forty-eight years ago today, at the time of writing, the first church services were held in the small township of Gotham in the province of New Jersey at the newly built Cathedral of the Holy Trinity, though the building was really no more than a shack at that time, consisting of only one room. This humble little cathedral grew with the surrounding community, surviving the turmoil of the American war for independence, the separation of the American Episcopalians from the church of England, and the great Gotham fire of 1842 which destroyed much of the town center. Though perhaps the faithful wished it had been consumed in the fire; they had grown ashamed of their little cathedral, some saying that it was hardly worthy of the name, and others saying that the Presbyterians really had a much nicer church over on 7th street. Their complaints (and their donations for the erection of a new church) finally motivated their Bishop to authorize the construction of a proper cathedral in the neo-gothic style popular at that time.

The search for an architect was short. A young Englishman, who'd been able to study for a short time under Andrew Jackson Downing, a titan of architecture, before Downing's untimely passing in a tragic boating accident. This fellow had never overseen any project, much less one as grand as the construction of a new cathedral, but he had the ambition of the unproven, and, more importantly in the bishop's mind, was willing to work for much less than any other architect consulted. His design was bold, featuring a rather impressive spire, a pseudo basilica, and on the east side a grand chevet of nine radiating chapels incorporating the original building. Additional artisans were contracted to add sumptuous stained glass windows and carved statuaries; saints and gargoyles. In total construction took seven years.

The building was completed just in time for the church's two hundredth anniversary. The bishop entrusted his archdeacon with the preparations and thought no more on the matter. His archdeacon was competent, organized, and punctual, and he'd never failed at a task the bishop had set for him. Still, though, there was a nasty rumor among the parishioners that held that the archdeacon kept a secret laboratory hidden away in his personal quarters. No one claimed to have seen it themselves, but it was repeated often enough that the bishop wondered occasionally if the rumors had any basis in fact. Eccentricities aside, Timothy Drake was a pleasure to employ and had never once given him any trouble.

The evening before the celebration was to begin, young Timothy Drake went out into Gotham to invite lost souls into the cathedral. In the main town square, across the flames and smoke of a bonfire, he saw a woman dancing, drawing the attention of those around her. She held a tambourine above her head in her two pure, round arms, slender, frail, quick as a wasp, with her tightly fitted bodice, her billowing, brightly-colored dress, her bare shoulders, her slender legs, uncovered now and again by her skirt, her golden hair, her fiery eyes, she was almost something otherworldly. Timothy was enraptured. His eyes met hers, but before he took a single step in her direction, she disappeared into the crowd. He was filled with the conviction that he must find her, that there was nothing more important. To this end, he sought out Inspector Jason Todd.

The man was something fierce, of the same type as Vidocq or Jonathan Wilde, a criminal turned criminalist. His reputation as master of the Gotham underworld was unmatched, he knew every crook and crevice, and regularly apprehended the worst of the worst, but to the extreme dissatisfaction of the Police Prefect, he entirely neglected to bring in petty thieves or prostitutes. Timothy knew he was the man to approach about relocating his dancer. "She was... she was dressed differently than most of the women here y'know, more skin."

"But still as a woman?" said the Inspector taking notes on a small pad of paper. "There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to how we're dressed when we get pulled into these books. Like... honestly, look at me, I'm an old-timey cop, ain't that a joke."

"No, she was definitely wearing a dress, but it was like... bright red and tight and... _sexy?"_ Timothy's hands shook, the dancer's movements had sparked a current of forbidden desire within him, which he did not know how to address. "Like not frumpy at all and her hair was down."

Jason nodded, flipping his notebook shut. "So she'll stand out in a crowd. Ok. I'll put some feelers out, see what I can find..."

"Meet me at the church. Uh... Gotham Cathedral, you know the one. I've gotta get back to help with the Eucharist! The Bishop will be furious if I'm late!" and having said that Timothy darted off as fast as he would while still retaining his dignity.

Jason frowned. He did not know Timothy to be particularly religious, but he supposed his sudden piety to be an imposition of the strange magic affecting them all. Jason had noticed that each book had subjected them to certain subconscious urges, such as the ones that compelled him to write every single piece of new information in that blasted notebook. He'd found that these urges could be suppressed if one knew one was in a book, but right now, he didn't really have the will to. It was simply easier to put pen to paper, and besides, it had the potential to help him organize his thoughts.

Firstly, it seemed that they were in some sort of historical fiction, judging from all the petticoats and top hats, and specifically given how he and Tim were dressed, it indicated that their professions were of some importance. Perhaps, given that he seemed to be some sort of law enforcement, perhaps they'd been sucked into a detective novel this time. Yes, that would make some sort of sense.

And then there was the fact that they were yet to locate Steph. Jason himself had not laid eyes on her once. Though it shouldn't be hard to locate her, given Tim's description; she would be memorable. He made his rounds checking with his nightwalkers and his street children; his army of eyes and ears that spread across the city. A large majority of them had seen someone fitting her description but no one could tell him where she'd gone until he came across a wrinkled old beggar woman who had the information he needed.

"She'll be over at the Val d'Amour, she's always there Sunday nights," she croaked and he slipped her a half-dollar in thanks.

The Val d'Amour was a seedy pub in the darkest part of town, and Jason was wise enough to know that just the sight of him dressed as he was would send every patron running; he, therefore, pulled off his overcoat with the brass buttons and his round cap and tossed them to the coldest looking street urchin he could find. Gotham in January was no joke, but Jason would fare better in just his thin undershirt than he would wearing police blues, at least in this part of town.

As he approached the tavern, light and noise spilled out of the open door and windows. Someone was singing in another language, at a brisk tempo, staccato and entrancing.

_"Les femmes d'amour  
vous font l'amour"_

When Jason entered, almost glad for the warmth of too many bodies pressed into too small a space, he could see a man with a knowing, wicked expression on his face singing on stage. He had the air of a poet as if there was a story just on the tip of his tongue, and he was waiting for just the right moment to tell it.

_"Pour quelques sous  
Pas besoin d'or  
Ou de bijoux  
Pas de discours"_

Steph was in the crowd, her scarlet dress standing out against the dull grays and blues, hugging her figure in a way that felt almost sinful, but Jason couldn't bring himself to care. When she saw him across the room and their eyes met she grinned and beckoned him over.

_"Ni de mots doux_   
_Que quelques sous_   
_Pour faire l'amour_   
_Aux femmes d'amour "_

He pushed his way through the revelers until he was beside her, pressed against her. She took him by the hand and pulled him into the mass of dancers, and he tried not to think too hard about how he knew every step even though he'd never quite danced like this before. Steph was a force of nature; one man could take her for a queen, another could take her for a maniac, and neither would be entirely wrong. Her arms were suddenly around him and he felt close to forgetting why he had come there in the first place. He inclined his head so that she would hear him when he whispered, "Let's get out of here."

She stiffened slightly but allowed him to lead her out into the darkness. Neither of them were dressed for the weather, so as soon as they were out of the part of town where no cabbie dared to stray, he hailed them a carriage. She scrambled in grateful to be out of the wind at least and he joined her after he told the driver where to take them.

She seemed fascinated by what she could see of the city whenever they passed by a street lamp. Jason could admit to himself that he was too. It was undoubtedly Gotham, but a Gotham before electricity, before cars. Steph's eyes lit up when they got closer to the city center. "It's huge."

"And you're only seeing half of it. There's a whole other Gotham underneath, the sewer networks you know? If you can stomach the smell, it's a whole new world, a different ecosystem entirely."

She looked at him incredulously.

"No seriously, like of course there's Croc, or at least he's there when we're not stuck in some fuckin' period piece or whatever... and like there's animals and shit living down there, rats, roaches, grasshoppers... even bats."

She didn't say anything to that and Jason huffed. The sewers were cool. Very cool, and if Steph didn't see that, that was on her.

When the carriage stopped in front of the cathedral Steph tensed and pulled away from him the second they got out. He grabbed her by her forearm to keep her from getting too far. She was ferocious in her desire to escape kicking and biting. "Steph, c'mon, Tim's waiting for us inside."

"You can't take me in there! He'll kill me, or worse!" she stomped down hard on his foot and tried to slip out of his arms. It was only thanks to his extensive training that he was able to keep her from escaping. He tried not to draw the attention of passers-by but it was near impossible with the struggling girl pounding her fists against his back. Luckily Tim heard the commotion and quickly ushered them into a side entrance. "There's a cell in the crypt. No one will disturb us there."

At the sound of Tim's voice, Steph's struggles grew even more desperate. "Sheesh Blondie, It's like you want me to drop yo-OW! She bit me!"

Tim laughed quietly as Jason set her down, none too gently. The small room was only illuminated by the light of Tim's candle which glinted off the gold of Steph's bangles and the green crystal glass gem she wore at her throat. She had drawn herself into a defensive position in the farthest corner of the room, ready to attack should either of them move towards her. "I will not submit to you priest, I would sooner die!" she spat.

Tim set down the candle and held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender. "Valid. But, uh... like hear us out first."

Steph didn't say anything in response, but she looked like she was willing to listen, so Tim kept talking and slowly edged towards her. "So... like you remember who I am?"

"You are the man who I hate most in the world and I will kill you with my own hands!" she lept towards him going straight for his throat. Tim squeaked. "Uh, Jason? A little help here?!"

Jason was completely oblivious to the struggle; he'd been staring contemplatively at a word carved into the wall in a strange script. ANANKE, it read. Jason ran his fingers over the divots of the letters before responding. "Hm? Oh, Tim, you said you were an archdeacon right?"

  
"What the fuck Jason? Yes," said Tim. He thought the gown and sash he was wearing that was keeping him from properly countering Steph's attack made it pretty clear that he was clergy of some kind... 

Jason hummed. "Then I think I know what book we're in."

Tim growled as Steph tackled him to the ground. "Amazing, now help me god damn it."

Jason folded his arms across his chest. "No."

"No??"

"I want her to trust at least one of us."

Steph turned towards Jason, keeping Tim pinned to the ground. "Trust you? After you delivered me to him?" she laughed bitterly. "I think we're long past that."

"Listen, Stephanie, how 'bout this, if he tries to torture you or hang you or even thinks about accusing you of sorcery I'll deck him."

"Jason, what the-"

"Shh Tim, you're on thin ice."

Steph narrowed her eyes. "And I assume you want something in return?"

"Just to talk, and maybe you could let Tim go?"

Steph shook her head. "He stays where he is. But I will talk."

"Okay, that's absolutely fair." Tim made a muffled sound of protest at that but Jason just kept talking. "Right now, your memories of Tim are fucked up. He would never hurt you, uh, physically at least. Maybe emotionally, I don't know. But like the point is he's not the enemy here."

"You have chosen his side Capitain, that much is clear."

"I'm on no one's side. Like I told you, if he tries to hurt you, I'm gonna stop him. I'm just trying to get you to see, he's not gonna try."

Tim nodded as vigorously as he could with Steph's arm against his windpipe. "Exactly, I'll-"

"Quiet," spat Steph. Tim blanched. She looked at Jason anger clear in her eyes. "I don't understand why you're trying to help him. I trusted you!"

Jason sighed and tried to make himself seem less threatening. "Fuck... no one should trust me over Tim. That's like... a law of nature. We just gotta jog your memories somehow... Uh... okay I got it. How'd you meet Tim?"

"He told me it was fate," she sneered. "He said he saw me dancing and wanted me-"

"No, like how did you actually meet? I remember that there was a brick involved?"

She stared at him blankly.

"Ok, obviously that's not gonna work. Jesus Christ, I got no clue."

Tim met Jason's eyes. "Specifics, ask her specifics-ahHH." 

"M'kay..." said Jason trying to give himself time to think. "Uh... Spoiler and Robin, who are they? How did they meet?"

Steph looked down at Tim and then back at Jason, then back at Tim. "He's Robin. He was." She loosened her grasp on him. "My Robin?"

"Yup," said Jason popping the p.

"But I don't understand. It's not making any sense."

"Ain't that an understatement," said Jason. "Nothing about this case makes sense."

Tim groaned. "You were Robin too, 'member?"

Steph let him sit up. "I was..."

"A good one," said Tim.

"But I'm better as myself, as Spoiler," she said, and she felt as though she was waking up. She was on her back with Tim sprawled across her, and Jason's arm was trapped between them. Cass's worried face was hovering over them, and as soon as they showed any signs of waking she was pulling them up. "You took too long. Damian. He went without you."

Steph frowned in confusion, but the boys burst into action, racing over to where Nightwing and Robin were lying in a pile. Much to her surprise Jason and Tim both collapsed the second they touched them. Steph was trying really hard not to freak out. "Holy cow Orphan, what was that?"

Cass sighed. "The man we fought tonight, we think he's a meta. He puts you into a book, and you're trapped until someone comes into the book with you."

"So essentially, some bullshit."

Cass grinned. "Yes. Some bullshit." 


	9. 882.12 Sophocles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic passed 100 Kudos!! Just like, wow guys, I'm blushing.

Cass caught Steph by the hand to stop her from going after the boys. "If you touch them you'll end up in the book."

"That's a nope from me," said Steph. She was still trying to shake the feeling that Tim was a creepy old priest out to get her. So not an experience she wanted to repeat.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when her comm came to life. _"Batman, Signal, and Batgirl have eyes on our target. They are ready to apprehend him as soon as the rest of you are in position."_

"We're almost done here, just gotta wake up Nightwing and we're good to go."

_"I will inform the others. Agent A out."_

Steph sighed. There was no telling how long it would take the boys to get Dick out of his book, and all she and Cass could do was sit and wait for them. Not exactly exciting but she'd manage. "Hey Orphan? Wanna play I spy?"

* * *

# DICK GRAYSON

#### Dramtis Personae:

**DICK GRAYSON** , daughter of Bruce Wayne  
**TIMOTHY DRAKE** , his sister  
**BATMAN** , King of Gotham  
**GUARD** , Sent to watch the corpse of the Red Hood  
**CHORUS**

_Scene: DICK and TIM before the palace gates._

**DICK:** Timothy, dear sister.

**TIM:** Oh, um... That's new. Uh, have you seen Damian? Or Jason?

**DICK:** You haven't heard. Oh, Sister. _(He embraces him)_. How can I tell you of the tragedy that has befallen us? Zeus has truly lifted his hand against our family. No shame or sorrow will be spared us until the sins of our father are repaid many times over.

**TIM:** What are you talking about?

**DICK:** Our two brothers faced each other on the field of battle-

**TIM:** Dick, no-

**DICK:** On that fatal day, one brother killed the other. Both of them, dead!

**TIM:** They are not.

**DICK:** Oh, sweet Timothy, they are and that is only the beginning of our grief. The Batman has forbidden us to bury Jason. He is to be left in the open air for the vultures, and anyone who attempts to right this wrong will be put to death.

**TIM:** Dick. No.

**DICK:** I am glad that you are as outraged as I am. Jason deserves funeral rites just the same as Damian. I will bury him myself, the consequences be damned. I would hope that you'd join me, to restore honor to our family.

**TIM:** But Jason's not dead. Currently.

**DICK:** Though it pains me to say it, he is.

**TIM:** Look, I'm not going to argue with you about this, but he's not.

**DICK:** His body lies in the public square. Soon I will go to perform his rites. Please, I beg you, Sister, come with me.

**TIM:** You know what, fine.

**DICK:** You'll come?

**TIM:** I'll be wherever you are, cause I'm not done talking to you.

**DICK:** Then come with me, but silently, for we must not be detected.

_(Enter Chorus, who begin singing, see appendix for lyrics. DICK and TIM talk over them)_

**TIM:** Uh... Hey, could you not? We're trying to be sneaky.

**DICK:** Who are you talking to?

**TIM:** The guys following us around, singing about what we're doing?

**DICK:** ...

**TIM:** There's even some guy playing the frickin' pan pipes?!

**PIPE PLAYER:** _(Stops playing to speak)_ Erm, actually this is an aulos, pan pipes are-

**TIM:** Do I look like I care? This is a Dick and Tim conversation so _pipe_ out!

**DICK:** Tim, there's no one there. Are you okay?

**TIM:** Are you telling me you can't see them?! I'm going to scream.

**DICK:** Please don't. We'll be caught.

**TIM:** It's not like that would be so bad.

**DICK:** We'd be stoned. To death.

**TIM:** I highly doubt that.

_(CHORUS finish their song and exit. Stagehands bring in JASON's corpse, covered in a burial shroud. Enter GUARD.)_

**GUARD:** Halt. Who goes there?

**DICK:** We are the daughters of Bruce Wayne. You will let us pass.

**JASON:** _(sitting up and clutching his burial shroud to him to protect his modesty)_ Dick? Oh, thank god. _(DICK does not acknowledge him)_ Dick?

**TIM:** He might not be able to hear you.

**DICK:** _(louder)_ We are the daughters of-

**GUARD:** No, I heard you. But Princesses, you must know of the edict. No one is to mourn or bury the Red Hood under the pain of death.

**DICK:** Arrest me then. I care not. _(He holds out his wrists before him, and the GUARD moves to take him into custody)_

**TIM:** Y'know, If no one could see or hear me, I would-

**JASON:** Yeah, yeah, I'm on it. _(Before the guard can reach DICK, JASON attacks, knocking the GUARD to the ground.)_

**GUARD:** The gods are angry! _(He runs away. Exit GUARD)_

**JASON:** Hell yeah they are!

**DICK:** Zeus must look favorably on our efforts to restore honor to our brother. We must prepare the body before anyone else comes to stop us. _(He takes JASON into his arms and begins washing his body)_

**JASON:** Whoa, hey there Dickie. Tim, help!

**TIM:** So Dick. What, exactly do we have to do? For the burial rights?

**DICK:** We must wash the corpse, give him his fare for the journey across the river Styx, and bury him. We don't have time to do much more than sprinkle him with dirt, but that should be enough to lay his soul to rest.

**JASON:** Ah piss. That doesn't sound pleasant.

**DICK:** It's the least I could do. I failed him so many times in life, I won't fail him again in death.

**TIM:** You know Jason doesn't think that, right?

**JASON:** I reserve the right to be petty, don't speak for me.

**TIM:** He knows that it was Bruce's fault you didn't come to his funeral.

**DICK:** It is Bruce's fault we can't give him the funeral he deserves, but had I been there, had I been more involved, perhaps he wouldn't have died at all. I will not blame myself for Bruce's failings, but I will not shirk the blame for my own.

**JASON:** Jesus christ... You know what? Don't engage him with like, emotional shit. That's his home territory. He'll beat you every time. You gotta get him lost in the practicalities, how absurd this is, and hopefully, that'll snap him out of it.

**TIM:** Sounds like a plan. Uh, Dick? Maybe we should have a ceremony, like a celebration of his life or something.

**DICK:** But Tim, that's forbidden.

**TIM:** No, listen, we'd have to vet the attendees, but it's totally doable. We should compare calendars, find a day that works, and then get started on a guest list.

**DICK:** Guest list? I suppose I could...

**TIM:** Just give me your phone number and I'll shoot you a text with the dates that I'm available.

**DICK:** Phone number? _(Dick stuffed a golden drachma coin in JASON's mouth)_

**JASON:** Bleggh

I suppose I could... Uh, do you have anything to write it down with? (732) 94-

"Is it the cover of _that_ book? No? Literally nothing else is blue, Orphan."

"There is. Your eyes."

"I can't see my own- Oh hey look, they're moving."

"What's going on?" groaned Dick. "Where are we?"

"Tt. We are at the library."

"Damian! You're okay!" said Dick. "And Jason! Thank goodness. I thought you were-"

"Dead, we know Dickface. It was hard to convince you otherwise," Jason said, amused.

"Field names!" Damian reprimanded. "Besides, I- I do not understand what happened in that book. It was dark, and I was trapped. I could not breathe."

"Aw shit. That's- Fuck I'm sorry," said Jason said rubbing the back of his neck. "I think, we, you and I, uh- You know the story of Polynices and Eteocles? That was us, and you were Eteocles... Damn kid, I'm so sorry."

Steph frowned. "And in normal person that means?"

"...I was buried alive," said Damian. "The entire time we were in Nightwing's book."

"Christ on a bike," said Tim.

"Tt. It is over now. Let's not dwell on it."

"Still though," said Dick hugging both Damian and Jason. "I'm glad you're okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God the research for this chapter was like pulling teeth. My writing process was just like cycling through the 17 tabs I had open and going 'what?'.
> 
> This video was super helpful to me-  Discovering Ancient Greek Music 
> 
> Also for anyone who cares, this time Dick and Tim were wearing chitons.


End file.
